Page 113 of Endgame
Once I survive today.IfI survive it.
I step through the door that Cormac holds open for me. The scent of a new car envelops me. It does nothing to slow my racing heart or stop my hands from shaking.
Everett’s attention is on me the entire time.
I feel it first.
Then I see when I look outside the window.
The gaze he’s pinning me with is severe, hot and cold at the same time.
Leather and lace.
A tear slides down my cheek once the car rolls out of the driveway.
He could’ve saved me. He could’ve put an end to this.
He didn’t.
I’m still as unlovable as I’ve ever been.
I have to find out why.
20
AURORA
Soft, warm lights. Comfy armchairs.
Babies. Ten of them.
Breathing. Sleeping.
Alone.
My heart has grown a life of its own. It shot up my chest and is currently lodged in my throat.
Since Everett’s home disappeared from view, I’ve been choking on all these emotions that threaten to ruin me.
And no one gives a fuck.
Cormac didn’t care that he had to hold me up by my arm as we walked through the hospital halls. He did what was expected of him. He brought me here, where everything is worse. The worst.
Every breath is a struggle. No matter how many times I shift in the armchair designated for me, I remain uncomfortable.
Gina, the nurse with the buzz-cut hair and kind green eyes, sits in the armchair to my right. Patient. Kind. As soft as the lights in the room are.
She hasn’t probed or asked about my red-rimmed eyes. My trembling voice. My pale face.
Everett must be paying her generously to ignore my pain.
Bastard.
Gina, on the other hand, doesn’t.
Her voice is tender. Her instructions on how to hold a baby have sounded more like suggestions than orders. She’s kept the same even tone as she demonstrated how to cuddle them and explained what it means to offer warmth.
When she said I could sing to them, it felt like an invitation.
